They moved him with hardly a jar in an army ambulance, and with the yellow limousine riding alongside to be of possible aid, and she had the bed stripped of its laces and cool with linen for him, and he sighed out when they placed him on it and would not let go her hand.
"What a feeling of space for so little a room!"
"It's the open windows, love."
He lay back tiredly.
"What sweet linen!"
"I shopped it for you."
"You, too—you're in linen, Hester?"
"A percale shirt waist. I shopped it for you, too."
"Give me your hand," he said, and pressed a string of close kisses into its palm.
The simplicity of the outrageous subterfuge amazed even her. She held hothouse grapes at two dollars a pound to his lips, and he ate them through a smile.